Ginny's Monolog
by Miss Confusion
Summary: This is a venture into Ginny Weasley's private thoughts. Atempted suicide and some language.


Well this is my second attempt at fanfiction. My first didn't turn out so well……..so I deleted it. Yes, anyways. Please review and what not. Be honest not hurtful or I will personally chop off your fingers and feed them to Fluffy.

Um….this is in monolog form. As in just someone talking to no one. There are movement directions.

I apologize if this freaks anyone out. Or offends someone. Or conflicts with your view of Ginny Weasley. This is just how I've always thought of her.

Disclaimer: I REALLY hope that no one who reads this is stupid enough to need a reminder that I OWN NOTHING. But incase you do; everything belongs to J.K.R. and this plot/format has probably been done before. So….yeah.

Did I forget to mention that this is a one-shot?

And that the movement directions won't have proper grammar? And that the movements aren't professional, as in I am not using upstage or down stage or anything. And that I may not have perfect grammar because its someone talking.

Yes. Anyways, on to the fanfic

Well……Here it goes

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**(eyes down cast with hand in pockets)**

No one knows how many times I've tried to do it.

**(Looks up removes hands from pockets. Has a kitchen knife held loosely in right hand)**

No one knows the number of nights that I've held the cold steel next to my wrist, making tiny incisions.

**(Brings knife up and lays it against wrist. Looks down lovingly)**

Just enough to break the skin. Only teasing, always teasing.

**(makes a small cut, holds wrist up and watches blood trickle down, drops knife hand next to side, smiles)**

Teasing myself with the possibilities.

**(pauses)**

Oh…The endless possibilities.

I could choose to end the torture now with one last, final cut and stop it all.

**(drops hand to side, eyes grow cold)**

Stop all of the fake smiles and false sympathy that makes me so sick.

So sick of life and living.

**(eyes return to normal, shakes head)**

Or I could choose to get myself help…as if.

**(rolls eyes)**

I would just be forced to talk with some old wind bag who doesn't know shit about anything and tell him or her all about my "tortured teenage soul".

**(snorts)**

What a cliché.

**(takes out wand and twirls it)**

I could just end it with a spell.

**(pauses)**

But where would be the fun it that?

**(drops wand to the ground)**

With a spell I would feel no pain.

Without pain how am I supposed to know of any change?

I mean, I'm already dead inside.

The pain just reminds me that my shell of a body is still breathing.

How would I know otherwise?

**(looks surprised turns and spins in quick happy ballet way)**

((A/N: I have no idea whet a ballet spin is called))

You know muggles were on to something with self mutilation.

**(nods)**

It's a mean of expressing yourself and your emotions, an art form, if you will.

**(waves hand)**

**(pauses)**

**(frowns)**

Though they lost me with that therapy shit.

**(face gets neutral, eyes go cold)**

Now that's no way of helping people. Believe me, I know. I had to endure a full summer of it after old Tommy boy possessed me.

**(eyes get normal, smirks)**

Now that was an experience to remember.

For once it my life I had felt free, free of responsibility, blame, obligations, restrictions.

You name it, I was free of it.

**(holds up a hand)**

Don't get me wrong, if I knew he was going to try and kill me I would have fought back.

**(pauses, glances around)**

Well, maybe not, that is if I had known that my heart would be trampled by

The-Boy-Who-Bloody-Won't-Die

**(pauses)**

God I can't believe I fell for that asshole

**(shakes head regretfully)**

But as much as it would help his ego, he is NOT the reason that I cut….No.

You see, most people cut because they care too much. They care too much about their looks, other people's opinions and about their lives. Those people never get far.

I cut because I don't seem to care enough.

So I see if I can get a reaction from myself by watching myself bleed

**(Makes small cut on left wrist)**

by watching as the knife digs in to my pale skin and buries itself deeper

**(slices deeper)**

and deeper

**(slices)**

in to my flesh.

So deep that I think I might just pass out from the pain. But the pain means nothing, NOTHING compared to all of the years of mental anguish I have suffered through.

**(shakes head)**

Nothing at all

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Well that was my fan fic. You know hwat to do so please reveiw!


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